


I Saw Him Standing There

by katy15307



Series: Born on a Different Cloud [1]
Category: Oasis (Band), The Beatles
Genre: Everton, Man City, POV Change, football match
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:09:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7912819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katy15307/pseuds/katy15307
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam attends a match at Goodison park, as he's leaving, he lays eyes on John.<br/>This is the story of when Liam and John met, both timelines are running together again so it's 1961 to John and 1989 to Liam just so Liam's 17 for the song but you don't have to stick to that, I was tempted to make Liam the older one this time but my Liam's ALWAYS younger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Saw Him Standing There

I’m lost in the mob of away fans trying to escape Goodison Park. We weren’t doing anything wrong, we hadn’t all match but still we were herded out like bulls ready to kick off.  
What can I say about the match? Disappointing draw, nil, fucking nil. City, why d’you let us down?  
We’re all walking with our heads low, dispirited by yet another lackluster performance. Everyone’s quiet, it’s all just the shuffles of our trainers, echoing through the exit tunnels.  
I was with some of the lads but they’ve done a fucking disappearing act on me, probably off looking to pick a fight with the Scousers. I’m not arsed with that (bloody casuals, nothing casual about ‘em), not today and the Scousers were alright, me brother reckons their our wacky cousins, not people to be fighting with. I dunno, I just wanna get on the train and get home.  
Out of the crowd and into the fresh air, I couldn’t decide whether to have a scout about for me mates or get off home. First train’ll be crowded but I wasn’t having the police targeting me. Fuck it I’ll hang about a bit.  
I looked up to see some lad standing, leant against the huge blue metal gates, he held one foot against the post. He looked oblivious to everyone streaming past him like a Mum picking her kid up from school.  
He looked so fucking cool, he sort of blended in but he stood right out all the same. He had a mop of light brown hair like myself but his hadn’t been blown all over, despite the wind. He was wearing a plain black t shirt, he’d hung sunglasses on the collar. He had a brown satchel over his shoulder. He wore dark jeans with tennis shoes. He smoked a fag with an almost deadpan expression. He wasn’t one of us and he didn’t look an Evertonian either.   
Maybe I’d been separated from my mates for a reason, fate and that or maybe he was eyeing for the right person to kick the shit out of and I needed to watch my step, he looked fucking tough.  
“Giz a light.” My voice cracked and my heart crashed about in my chest as I made first contact.  
What was wrong with me? I was smooth with the ladies and the lads. I didn’t get nervous at the game, they were all mine for the taking. I didn’t even want a smoke, I’d just blurted.  
“Get lost, Manc.” he said but his lips curled into a welcoming smile.  
My eyes locked with his, deep, soft, warm brown ones that let me past his tough exterior.  
“C’mon.” I pulled a cigarette out from my jeans pocket and put it to my lips.  
“I’m waiting for a friend.” he said, still not budging.  
“They’ll be ages yet, big crowd today. We’ve got plenty of time.” I pointed out. “It’s not gonna light itself.”  
He quickly searched his satchel, finding the lighter and lighting me up. “There.”  
“Thanks.” I rewarded him with a smile. “D’you hang about Goodison much?”  
“Only when Paul goes, I’m more of a Liverpudlian if anything.” He made it sound boring.  
“So, you and Paul…?” I raised my eyebrows hinting at what I was asking.  
I wasn’t going to go wasting my time if he was already with somebody else. I was usually more direct but subtly felt right just this once.  
“No, no, strictly friends. I’m single right now, I’m still playing the field.”  
“Yeah, same.” Shit, I didn’t mean to admit to being a player, I was trying to impress him, win him over for fuck’s sake!  
“So, what was the score?” he changed the subject.  
“Nil, nil.” I admitted quietly.  
“What a waste of time.”  
“A point apiece.” I defended with a shrug.  
“True.” he responded flatly.  
“What are you interested in if not footie?”  
In my world football was number one, there was nothing much better than having a match down the park, watching it, talking about it, waiting for the next one.  
“Music, books, writing…”  
“You gonna be a writer or summat?”  
I couldn’t do it, I had too much energy to just sit with a pen and paper.  
“Yeah, journalism’s gone down hill so I’ll probably be a paperback writer.”  
“I’d read your stories.”  
“Might never happen.”  
It won’t with that attitude. “What music you into?”  
“This and that, whatever Paul brings.”  
“I’m into hip hop, me.”  
He looked at me like he’d never heard of it but he didn’t say anything.  
“Nevermind, it’s an American thing, it’s a bit shit anyway.” I completely backtracked “I’m more into rock n roll now.”  
I looked around to see there was only us to left on the ground, this mate was nowhere to be sees so decided to make my move. “Looks like yer mate’s abandoned you, maybe we could…”  
\- - -   
I was stood waiting for Paul after the match (hoping it went well for Everton so he didn’t go on moaning about it too much), minding my own business when some Manc scally approached me. It’s obvious he’s not from round here, the Mancs pride themselves on looking different from us although we’re all the same, same heritage.  
Plus he had his sky blue and white match scarf stuffed in his Adidas track suit top which was tied around his waist, either he’d misjudged the weather or his mum had made him take a jacket of some sort. He was obviously younger than me, or he just had one of those young faces, I didn’t exactly have an old face either.   
He asked for a light and I reluctantly obliged. He seemed oddly nervous, especially when he’d walked over so confidently.  
I tried not to seem even the slightest bit interested in him or anything he said, I attempted to bore him to death thinking he’d give up and leave me alone but he was persistent.  
“No! I’m not getting involved with some Manc kid.” I told him firmly.  
“So if I want from Manchester you’d be interested?”  
“No, I, I’m just not interested.” I should’ve just ignored him right from the start but I wasn’t rude and he was quite good looking.  
“I’m Irish! I just live there. I’ll fuckin’ move one day.” he insisted.  
I dropped my cigarette, stubbed it out and walked, muttering “desperate.”  
“No, I know what I want and that’s you!” he proclaimed like I was his one undying love.   
He discarded his fag too and followed me like the lost puppy he was.  
“Go home kid, your Mam’s gonna start worrying.”  
“Not ‘til I’ve got your number.”  
I turned and faced him, giving him a look. I could tease him, lead him on, just to crush him. If I gave my number he’d probably lose it before he got home anyway. “Y’haven’t even asked for my name.”  
“Sorry, what do I call you?”  
“John.” No point lying to the kid. “Yourself?”  
“William, I, I mean Liam. I’m not messing, I’m not a kid, what are ya fuckin’ scared of?”  
I wasn’t having anyone call me a coward. “Prove yourself, kiss me.” I expected him to say no, get stage fright since people like him are usually all talk, I got him all wrong.  
\- - -  
Sometimes you’ve got to keep at it to get your reward and this was now. I got close throwing off my nerves and kissed him. I didn’t know what to expect, I thought he’d push me away, try to make a fool of me but he couldn’t because I was a fucking good kisser, everyone said so.  
He looked at me shocked as we broke away, he couldn’t believe my skill, probably the best he’s ever had. He took me by surprise as he very quickly went in for another kiss but I pulled away, always leave them wanting more.  
“Okay. That wasn’t half bad.” he admitted as he got a notepad from his satchel, warning “Do not mess me about.”  
I took the note and carefully tucked it in my jean pocket. “I won’t, I’m dead serious about you. I better not find out this is a fake number!”  
“I’m not that kind of dick.” he insisted and I believed him.  
“I should get off home unless we can do summat around here?”  
I just met the bloke, now I’m trying to date him already, what the fuck?  
“No, not today. I need to find where the fuck Paul got to, train station’s that way. Don’t follow me.” he pointed.  
“Alright, bye John.”  
“See ya in the next one.” he smiled before perching his sunglasses on his nose and walking away.  
I grinned to myself, the Liam Gallagher charm had paid off once again. I hadn’t expected the day to turn out like this, I was just here for the football.


End file.
